


Sacrifice

by ElliottRookArchive (ElliottRook)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Non-Graphic Violence, chalk it up to the teenage angst happening when I wrote it, probably would call it a pg-13, there's a reason it's going on the archive account, this one is weird and dark for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23260933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliottRook/pseuds/ElliottRookArchive
Summary: They were imprisoned for so long, and then came so close to being set free together...so close, and yet so far away...their one last chance would be a stranger's sacrifice.





	Sacrifice

She had been a prisoner for so long she could barely remember life outside. It was terrible inside, but she couldn't help it; there was no way to escape--others had tried, and others had died.

Torture abounded; few escaped it. Those who did had been bad off to begin with. Even she herself had not been spared. There were scars across her back from the floggings.

She had nothing to deserve this; none of them had. All they had done was live in an area overtaken by others; others who were cruel beyond her darkest imaginations. The worst continuing nightmares of the old days would have been a comforting welcome compared to one hour here.

She curled up in a corner of her filthy cell. At first it had repulsed her, but as she began to realize that she would never make it out, she made herself adapt to the brutality of the place. It didn't mean that she liked it; she could never like it here among the pain and death; but she had forced herself to become used to it.

Some days she wondered why she had been spared; her entire family was gone. She knew even she wouldn't last forever; this place made mortality very real.

There were only two things that kept her sane as doom drew near. One was the thought that they couldn't enslave her mind. They could kill her, but her thoughts would always be her own. Granted, she had lost all means and rights to express them, but that never daunted her from dreaming; dreaming of escaping; dreaming of living again.

The other was far more complicated, yet so very simple.

Love.

He was still alive. She saw him as he was led off in chains every day to do hard labor, and brought back each night barely able to drag his bleeding feet. She knew that if he looked up it could be the end of him, but she could sense his eyes turning her way. She gripped the bars of her cell and stared at him from the second he came into sight until the second he disappeared.

It nearly killed her to see him like that, but at the same time, it was the sight of him that kept her going. If it ever happened that one day he didn't walk by, then she knew she'd die. Her friends from the outside were all gone, her family had been cruelly killed. There would be nothing left to live for--and she could be with him happily on the other side.

Nothing ever changed here; the days ran together until one barely realized there was a separation in them, it was just an endless cycle of time. Wake before dawn, watch the men walk by, eat moldy food, get sent to a task for the day, work until dusk, eat more moldy food, watch the men return, sleep, and begin again.

Not that morning was like a beginning. It seemed more like ending again; winding down to one final end.

The last day was no different, at least until noon. As the sun reached its peak, all prisoners were instructed to gather in the courtyard that was surrounded by cells.

There were only a hundred or so left, including the men when they returned from wherever it was that they went. At least they got to get out, go away and be somewhere else each day.

There was no organization; everyone ran to friends from long ago. Some people didn't recognize the person tapping their shoulder. They'd long since lost their minds in the depths of despair.

She felt scarred arms wrap around her from behind and lips press into her neck. She spun and got a good look into his face. Tears streamed down her cheeks, making tracks in the dust that she couldn't get off of herself no matter how hard she tried. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to the rags that passed for clothes in this horrid abyss; unable to think of anything else. He leaned down and tilted her face up. They had no idea how long they had together, and he wanted to make the most of it.

As his lips met hers, memories of before came flooding back. She could remember so much more about happiness than she had thought was possible.

He held her tightly in his arms; barely able to believe their luck. She continued to cry. The memories only made here seem worse.

He kissed her hair, and in the process of crying she rained butterfly kisses on his cheeks.

He whispered her name and she looked up at him through her tears.

"If we ever make it out of here alive, will you marry me?"

She cried even harder, her answer coming out in sobs. "Yes!"

Harsh orders sounded out; all prisoners were to line up against the wall. In the rush to not be the last one to find a spot in line, and therefore potentially be killed, the pair was separated. There were about five people separating the two of them, and neither of them dared to move; there was a drive in each to preserve themselves for the other's sake.

An officer screamed a speech at an inattentive audience. These cruel people spoke a different dialect of their language; it was the same written out, but they spoke it with a completely different accent.

Eventually it became understood that at last these cruel people were under attack from another bordering nation. At last they would be accountable to someone.

Hearts sang, but lips remained silent. No one dared to vocalize for fear their wish not come true, like the old wive's tale, but they were all sure: Prisoners would be freed! Life would return to this quadrant of death.

There was only one hang-up: They had had far more prisoners than they'd ever recorded, and despite the loss of thousands of lives, the records were still in error.

By one.

There were two possible solutions. One person could sacrifice himself for all the others, or they could all be killed.

Everyone knew which was the right choice, but there were no volunteers.

The officer waved over a soldier of lesser rank. "Choose one!" he screamed. The soldier glanced around. Most people tried to fade into the background; willing themselves not to be chosen.

The soldier pointed his gun; but didn't shoot. It was his morbid way of indicating his choice.

She didn't want to look, but she had to.

No!

He stepped forward, knowing that the soldier meant him.

"NO!" She screamed with all the breath she had in her and ran to him. She threw her arms around his neck and more tears flowed. "Anyone but him!" He cradled her, kissing the top of her head, trying to reassure her. It wasn't easy as there were tears falling down his own face. There was no way to make it better; he was going to die and she would be free--but alone.

The officer frowned. "Shoot them both."

"No!" A quavering voice sounded from the other side of the courtyard. "I'll die if they can both be free." A girl with her face hidden beneath a fraying shawl stepped forward.

The officer turned and nodded. He didn't care. Soon he would be in his final battle, trying to defend this place; he'd probably die himself.

The pair was prodded back into line. She sobbed into his tattered shirt.

At last, she glanced up to glimpse their savior; the one who sacrificed herself so that they could live--together. She knew that the since it was a girl, she wouldn't just be killed. She'd be tortured. Their cruel captors had no respect for women--it'd be horrible for her. She'd be in excruciating agony for as long as they could stretch it out.

As the soldier yanked the other girl along by the arm, the shawl fell away and revealed the face.

She gasped. She didn't just see the face; she recognized it! She buried her face in his chest again.

The girl who had given herself up was an old acquaintance. They had both loved the same one, but he had chosen, and today more than ever his choice was obvious.

The other girl had been bitter for a time. Then they had been taken over, and she had not seen the other girl or heard any news of her.

And then to sacrifice herself so she could be happy with him--! It was beyond comprehension.

She wondered if the other girl wanted them to be happy together or if she just couldn't bear to see him die.

Either way, she was grateful. There were no words to describe how grateful; or how great the sacrifice was.

Soon, the other army would arrive, and they would all be free, but she knew that part of herself would always remain here; forever thanking the other girl.


End file.
